


Death Rattle

by Spoon888



Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [17]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Denial, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Megatron Is Wrong, Megatron Thinks He's Too Much Of A Badass To Ever Get Sick, Sickfic, So much denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Starscream is absolutely the worst person anyone could have with them when they're feeling unwell. But since Megatron is definitely NOT SICK that's not going to be a problem for him. Not at all. Not one bit.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719604
Comments: 21
Kudos: 199





	Death Rattle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoombow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoombow/gifts).



Megatron cleared his vents, huffing air through the filters sharply. It felt like there was something stuck. He did it again, more forcibly, but the tar-like substance blocking his throat made it difficult to take in enough air. 

"Stop doing that," Starscream complained. 

Megatron felt his jaw tighten, "You had better not be speaking to _me_." 

"I don't hear anyone else making so much unnecessary noise," Starscream drawled impatiently, instead of heeding his leader's tone and sealing his oily mouth _shut_. 

Megatron turned at the waist to face the miscreant. Starscream was sat at the navi-com, completely ignoring the notifications flooding the screen as he instead focused on his self pampering routine; running a flat round filing tool over nightmarish claws. _Sharpening_ them. 

"Do not presume to give me orders, seeker," he warned dangerously, but quietly, more so than he would have liked. His vocaliser felt raw and sharp, like Starscream had used it for a scratching post.

He supposed feeling a little run down was the price he was having to pay for staying up late into the night to oversee a remote intel operation personally. It had been a success, despite the thunderclap headache he had been nursing for the duration. 

It lingered still today, but throwing back twice the recommended dosage of sensory-blockers seemed to have taken the edge off. But the over-medication wasn't without it's side-affects either. He was currently glaring at two-and-half Starscream's. 

"Why do you sound like that?" Starscream demanded. 

Megatron gripped the edge of a computer terminal, denta grinding slowly. "Like _what_?"

"Like an abused accordion?" 

"I do _not know what that is,_ " Megatron hissed, feeling like he was choking on razorblades. He rubbed the base of his throat, wincing, "And I do not care to find out. And since you have done nothing but sit there, filing down your talons for the last twenty breems, you can take yourself elsewhere if my presence here is so inconvenient." 

Starscream's flat round paused mid-swipe. He studied Megatron carefully, his proximal optical lenses shrinking down to narrow snake-like diamonds to focus, before suddenly dilating again into huge round orbs. 

A glitch-tiger spotting weakened prey. 

"You're _sick_ ," Starscream stated gleefully. 

"Don't be _ridiculous_ ," Megatron's chest heaved with the effort it took not to cough that very moment. His next breath came out as a wheeze. He was having to rely more and more on terminal he was leaning against to stay upright. "There is dust in my vents. The ship's ventilation needs seeing to-"

"It's _your_ ventilation system that needs seeing to, you poor decrepit thing," Starscream tutted, pointing his nail file at him. "You sound dreadful. Perhaps you should take a break? Lie down in a nice darkened room and die in there instead?" 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Megatron snarled, baring his teeth. "For me to _die quietly_!" 

"I'd settle for you doing anything quietly at this point," Starscream muttered. "Isn't it bad enough that you inflict yourself on us when you're healthy, now you're selfishly insisting on exposing us to your disgusting disease?" Starscream shuddered in revulsion, "and that awful death-rattle your vents are making? You nearly blew that operation last night, wheezing in everyone's audials like an asphyxiated scuba diver-"

" _Enough_ ," Megatron croaked, slamming his fist down on the terminal, leaving a large dent in it's casing and effectively killing the computer. "I am not sick. The only _disease_ in this room is _you_." 

Starscream made a show of looking at his chronometer, "Stop making such a fuss and just let it kill you. Anyone else would have had the decency to succumb to this thing by now." 

"I am not anyone _else!"_ Megatron pushed his struggling vocaliser to it's limit to announce, vocaliser breaking on the last word. He straightened up and puffed out his chest, looming over the smug seeker in an effort to remind him just _who_ was the stronger out of the pair of them. 

"You would do well to remember that, Starscream-" he paused for breath, chest tight, "-I am not some- weak willed little seeker- collapsing over the- the mildest of ailments..." 

Starscream leaned back in his seat and smiled at him, "Yes, Megatron, rant and posture. That'll prove what a big strong mech you are. I'm ever so impressed." 

"You-" Megatron shook his helm, trailing off breathlessly. His chest heaved as air vents struggled to take in another breath. He muffled a cough against his fist, bracing a hand against the terminal again. 

" _Brat_ ," he muttered lamely. 

Starscream smirked, going back to his manicure. "Corpse." 

"Wretch," Megatron swallowed, reaching blindly for the chair behind him, dragging it over so he could at least collapse into it with dignity, rather than across the decking. 

"Clunker." 

" _Whore_ ," Megatron threw at him, glowering hatefully. 

"You _wish_ ," Starscream whispered quietly, crossing his legs and lifting an elegant hand to admire his re-sharpened claws. They glinted dangerously. Megatron squinted at the flare of light they cast across his optics.

"Write-off," Starscream said absently.

Megatron processor pounded, stuffed full of too much cotton and static to come up with any better an insult. Tragically, he had to allow the seeker the last word. Something which pleased Starscream so much it seemed to inspire a spark of mercy in him. 

"Alright," the seeker sighed, slipping the file away and rising out of his seat. "I suppose I should comm a medic and have them haul you away. I don't need the stench of death lingering in _here_ -"

"M' not dying," Megatron had slumped down his seat and couldn't find the energy to sit back up, even as Starscream approached. His limbs felt like lead. He let his helm hang over the back of the headrest, exposing a vulnerable throat to fresh new claws. Worse still, tired aching optics couldn't seem to stay online. 

He felt warm digits brush the underside of his chin, Starscream turning his head to the side to see him better. Megatron allowed his optics to online a fraction, squinting up at the seeker peering down at him. 

"No," Starscream clicked his tongue in disappointment, "It doesn't look like you are dying. A shame." 

He pressed his wrist comm anyway, warm digits falling away. Megatron groaned softly at the loss, but hopefully Starscream would think it was a noise of pain, and not of inappropriate longing. 

"There's a heap of spare parts on the Bridge in need of your attention," Starscream said into the comm, presumably to Scrapper. "And be quick about it, it's in the way." 

"Tell him to bring drugs," Megatron moaned, too far gone to bother with denying it now. 

Starscream's fingers brushed his cheek. Megatron leaned into it, but didn't get to enjoy the seeker's touch before Starscream was rudely covering his mouth with his palm, silencing his next groan.

"Shh," the seeker hushed him unkindly, "I thought we agreed on you dying _quietly_." 


End file.
